


A Softer Gold

by Kalaiscope



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, but also a little hopeful?? maybe????, its kind of angsty i'm sorry, post-death, saying goodbye, sort of an afterlife thing idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-15
Updated: 2013-11-15
Packaged: 2018-01-01 15:28:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1045553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalaiscope/pseuds/Kalaiscope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Marco hums, and his voice resonates so naturally with their surroundings. "I can see why Eren wants to reclaim it. Just imagine, being able to go out and explore the whole world, everything at your fingertips and no titans to worry about..." </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He laughs softly. "Well, I guess I'll get to see everything soon enough. And there's all the time in the world here."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Softer Gold

_They're sitting on the edge of the wall, but there's nothing strange about that. Everyone does it now and then, during breaks, when things are slow, dangling their legs over the side to look out and down down down at the landscape below, relishing in the sensation of vertigo. It's serene. Quiet. And that's the weird part, because Jean has never seen the wall so deserted. He chalks it up to a small miracle though, shrugs it off as nothing much, and turns back to watching the far-off glint of silver on the horizon._

_Marco thunks his heels against the stone, leaning back on his hands and looking utterly carefree. Something about the way the breeze ruffles his hair, making the same rippling patterns as a field of tall grass or wheat, captivates Jean, and he finds himself staring. Either his friend doesn't notice, or he doesn't mind. He just closes his eyes in a slow blink that seems to stall time, so that Jean spends an infinite moment watching the sun highlight the boyish softness of his features, and smiles with the sort of peaceful acceptance that breaks hearts._

_"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Marco hums, and his voice resonates so naturally with their surroundings that Jean doesn't even startle at the unexpected comment. "I can see why Eren wants to reclaim it. Just imagine, being able to go out and explore the whole world, everything at your fingertips and no titans to worry about..." He laughs softly, a sound of pure contentment that soaks into Jean's bones and makes him want to laugh as well. "Well, I guess I'll get to see everything soon enough. And there's all the time in the world here."_

_It feels to Jean like he should say something here, maybe ask a question, but he's drowsy with his warm happiness and he can't think of what to say anyway. So he just laces his fingers effortlessly with Marco's, feeling butterflies brush wings in his stomach when the boy lightly squeezes his hand in return. Everything is bright and gold and beautiful and he's never felt happier._

_"Hey Jean? Can you promise me something?" And he would willingly promise Marco the whole world right now, if he asked, no matter how impossible that might be. "There's a whole lot out there, and a whole lot of people who might never get to see it in their lifetimes." The gentle pressure on his hand returns. It makes him lift his head and listen a little more intently, taking in the wistful look on Marco's face. "It's going to be a long, hard journey, but someone has to fight for them. So that one day they can all see it, and not have to live in fear. I'd fight for that, but I can't. Not now. But Jean," he finally turns his head, and his eyes reflect an earnest summer gold. "Jean, you can. So that one day, people won't have to die without ever seeing what's beyond these walls. So they can live long, full lives, and die quietly in their beds. I want you to do that, Jean. Fight for that. Live as hard as you can and long as you can and be as happy as you possibly can." He clings tight to the fingers in his grip, and there's a passion in his voice that Jean has never heard before. A part of his mind says that this will be a hard promise to keep, but even so, he could never say no to a speech like that._

_"Alright," he whispers._

_"Promise. For me."_

_"I promise. I'll do my best. Just..." For a moment he hesitates. "...Don't be mad if my best isn't all that great, okay? I'll still try." He means it, all of it, the promise itself and everything that comes with that oath to keep on living. He's just not sure if he's the right one to entrust with such a task._

_Marco laughs again, and his relief sounds like honey so sweet and warm that it burns the throat and makes Jean feel like crying. "Your best is more than enough for me. I believe in you." Their foreheads touch, and he feels Marco's eyelashes brush his face. "I love you. You know that, right? You're so brave and so kind, and you put your heart and soul into everything you do. There's nothing you couldn't accomplish, if you put your mind to it." Their breath mingles, intimate, personal. The whole world is just a hazy backdrop to this moment between them. "Don't ever forget that, okay? No matter what happens," lips brush his cheek "whatever you choose," gently on the corner of his mouth "there will always be someone here who loves you."_

_It feels like an eternity, kissing Marco on the edge of the wall with their legs dangling over the side and the rest of existence spanning out before them, an innocent trillion heartbeats that speaks volumes more than words ever could. They map eachothers thoughts and feelings by touch, light as a feather, insubstantial as a spiderweb, and more powerful than anything humans have words for._

_"I love you too," Jean tells him when the moment finally ebbs, just so he can remind himself one day that he really did say it. It wasn't just his imagination. "I always did, in my own fucked up way. I never met anyone like you." There's more to say, so much more running through his mind, but it's all pointless, redundant. Marco already understands everything._

_"You will someday. I'm not the only one out there." He's not sad, but there's something patient and determined in his gaze that squeezes Jean's heart, has him gripping his shoulder so hard it has to be painful._

_"No," he says, "no, you're the only one. You're the only Marco. You're one of a kind."_

_But Marco just keeps smiling, looking too much like he knows something Jean doesn't. "You too, then. There's never been anyone like you, and there never will be." He puts his hand over where Jean's fingers are still digging into his arm, and something deep inside him seems to change. Like the snapping of a broken cord. Somehow, Marco's mouth looks a little crooked, his eye a little too bright._

_He never stops smiling when he whispers,_

_"You're my Jean."_

\- - - 

 

The sound of scores of boots crunching gravel as they turn and leave is deafening. You can feel yourself shaking. At least five people are crying, including Sasha, drowned into silence by the crowd, but still leaving terrified gasps and heaves that are impossible to ignore. The palm of your right hand burns. You could turn now, walk away, go join the Military Police just like you wanted. Your mama would be so proud. She'd brag to all the neighbors, show your letters to the kids, make you famous within that group of ten middle-aged ladies. You could do it. There's still time. Your brain is screaming, this is your last chance, what are you doing, what are you waiting for-

But you've already decided. Since you watched the pyre that held Marco's corpse surge into smoking flame, your mind has been made up. No more. No more running. No more cowardice. No more innocuous deaths in narrow streets that served no purpose and could have been avoided. You promised Marco, and even if it was just a figment of your deluded mind, you plan to honor that oath. 

No more running. No more cheats. You'll stay where you can do the most good and maybe, if you're very lucky, you'll die for a cause and be remembered as a hero.

You think, but you'd settle for not dying at all.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally part of a much longer story for an old kinkmeme prompt (again), but I've realized that I'm probably never going to finish the whole thing, so I might as well post some of what I have. This was my favorite part anyway.
> 
> (I actually screwed up and wrote this first, and then, as you can see, switched back to my default second person present tense style by mistake. So it's kind of a clunky failure anyway.)
> 
> In case it wasn't obvious right off the bat, this is a sort of dream state/afterlife scene where Jean gets a chance to say goodbye to Marco. It's also kind of really ooc and I'm sorry for that. Just the whole 'things aren't as bad as they seem' vibe is hard for me to fit into the snk universe where everyone dies and no one is happy and bleh. 
> 
> Title is a tiny dumb joke on my part, sort of referring in a roundabout way to the webcomic(??) _A Softer World_.


End file.
